Shall Love Conquer All
by evuchetich
Summary: This is a continuation of our favorite novel. Elizabeth and Darcy have been married for a few years but still struggle as they attempt to become partners in life.
1. Chapter 1

The man on the galloping stallion seemed to glide across the hills. Fitzwilliam Darcy, master of Pemberley in Derbyshire, was returning home after a long day of work on the estate. The sheep were being herded to their winter pastures and the harvest was nearly all gathered in. A few more weeks and all would be settled in for the winter. He paused on top of the rise and looked down at the main house. It was his favorite view of the house with the darkening trees behind the building and the still lake in front. Lights were starting to illuminate the windows. His wife was inside, preparing for dinner. He looked forward to a calm, relaxing evening with his beloved. He kicked his horse and galloped towards the stables.

The object of his thoughts, Elizabeth Darcy, was sitting in the rose garden admiring the last flowers. She had spent the day visiting some tenants. She enjoyed caring for the families that lived on the grounds of Pemberley. The last visit was to a new mother. Mrs. Johnson had given birth to her second child, a girl, nearly 2 weeks ago. She had an older son who was nearly 2 years of age. Elizabeth had spent most of the visit cuddling the two children. The older boy seemed to be neglected just by the fact that his mother was still weak and the newborn understandably required more care. Elizabeth had brought some food and clothing for the family, as well as a toy for the boy. She had enjoyed holding the boy as he spoke his toddler nonsense about the new toy until he fell asleep in her arms. She rocked him for a little while, enjoying the feel of his warm breath on her neck.

When the curricle she had taken was a quarter of a mile from the main house, Elizabeth asked the driver to stop and walked slowly the rest of the way home. The quiet melancholy she had felt for the last few months overwhelmed her this afternoon. She and Fitzwilliam had been married for nearly 3 years and there were no babies. She loved her husband and her life. She loved her sisters and brothers-in-law and her parents. She loved her nieces and nephews. She cared deeply for the tenants and servants of Pemberley. She loved her husband beyond all telling. But, there were no babies for her and Fitzwilliam. She stopped her slow walk in Lady Anne's rose garden and sat in the center, staring at the dying flowers. It was only the subtle hint from a footman the aroused her from her reverie and sent her inside to prepare for dinner.

Since Georgiana had married nearly 18 months ago, if there were no guests or dinner parties, Elizabeth had ordered dinner be served on a small table in the music room. Fitzwilliam enjoyed the intimate setting and they both liked sitting close enough together to be able to hold hands between the courses.

After bathing and changing his clothes, Darcy went in search of his wife. He found her in the sitting room adjoining the master bedroom looking out the window.

"Good evening, my love," he said quietly and walked across the room to her side. She started slightly and looked up at him with a sparkling smile. He noted, not for the first time, that the smile did not reach her eyes.

"Good evening," she said and tilted her cheek for his kiss. She turned from the window and allowed herself to be enclosed in his arms. "How was your day?"

"Mmm," he sighed into her hair. "Very good. We have nearly all the sheep moved into the winter pastures. The harvest is going well. I believe we will be settled for winter in the next two or three weeks."

"Good. So we are on schedule for the Harvest Festival at the end of October?"

"Yes. Everything should be done and everyone will be ready to celebrate."

"Let us go down to dinner." She slipped out of his arms and moved to the door. "I believe that Cook prepared an apple tart for dessert."

"Elizabeth," he took her arm and stopped her in the hallway. "Are you well tonight?"

"Of course, darling. Just hungry. Let's go down."

Later that evening, after a delicious dinner and light chatter, mostly Darcy telling more details about his day, Elizabeth suggested retiring early. She had visited six tenant families and had travelled nearly 30 miles all told. Lately, she tired more easily. Fitzwilliam, however, had been invigorated by the day's work and was well-rested by the dinner. If they were retiring early, in his mind, sleep was not the first thing on his agenda.

Darcy quickly prepared for bed and dismissed his valet until the morning. He entered the bedroom and expected to see his wife in bed. The room was lit and warmed by the fire, but Elizabeth was still in her dressing room. He sighed quietly and went to the table and retrieved some letters that had arrived that day. He absently flipped through them, anxiously awaiting his wife. He had two great loves in his life; Pemberley and Elizabeth. He had spent the day riding over the estate. He wanted to spend the night in Elizabeth's arms.

Elizabeth combed out her hair and blew out the candle on her vanity. She tightened the belt of her dressing gown and entered the bedroom, sure her husband would already be in there and sure of what he would want. She took a deep breath and went to the center of the room.

Darcy noticed her attire - cotton and wool dressing gown belted tightly and closed up to her chin - and cleared his throat. He handed her a letter. "This came today from Jane."

"Thank-you." She sat in a chair close to the fire and opened it. Darcy laid the other letters down and picked up a book. He joined her near the fire in the other chair. He looked up when she spoke. "She asks me to come as soon as a I am able and stay until the birth. She needs help with little Charlie and wants me at her side for the delivery."

"I take it, your mother will not be present."

"I believe that is why they were invited to visit in the summer. It is too soon for Papa to make another long trip north."

"Your sister is gentle and wise." They both smiled. "When do you wish to go?"

"I don't know if I can, Fitzwilliam. The harvest is not yet in and there is the Festival to plan."

"Elizabeth, if you sister needs you, you should go to her."

"My first duty is to you and to Pemberley."

"Thank-you, love. But, we will survive and it is not like you will be too far away. Bingley's estate is only a thirty mile drive. If I need you, it will take less than a half-day's journey to get to you." He reached for her hand. "I know how important Jane is to you."

Absently, she said, "I don't know, Fitzwilliam. I need to think about it."

"Of course, love. Speak with Mrs. Reynolds and Cook. If the plans can be laid before you go, they can supervise the actual work. Hopefully, the babe will arrive before the Festival and you can attend. The tenants love you and love seeing you in such a festive occasion."

"Yes, dear. I am tired tonight. Mrs. Johnson's little ones wore me out. I think I'll go to sleep." She rose and went to kiss his brow. His arms tightened around her hips and he buried his head in her bosom. Shocked, she kissed his head again and pushed at his shoulders. He let her go. She smiled gently at him. Again, he noticed her eyes did not sparkle. "Good-night, my love."

He swallowed and examined her face a moment before replying. "Sleep well, Elizabeth." She went to the bed and climbed in, extinguishing the candles on her side. She rolled so her face was away from him and seemed to fall asleep. Darcy looked at the book in his lap and pretended to read. _"This has gone on long enough, Mrs. Darcy. Tomorrow, I am getting to the bottom of this."_


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Darcy arose with the sun. He and Elizabeth both were early risers at the beginning of their marriage. Lately, though, Elizabeth slept later and seemed to be retiring earlier. Darcy dressed and went downstairs without disturbing his wife. He entered his study and began to seriously read the other letters that had arrived yesterday. He also had several pieces of correspondence to send and he wanted to get his paper-work out of the way as quickly as possible. He planned a meeting with Mrs. Reynolds, the housekeeper.

Mrs. Reynolds had very nearly raised Georgiana and acted as a mother-figure to Darcy as well. She was hired as a parlor maid twenty-odd years ago and advanced to Lady Anne's personal maid and companion. It was Lady Anne's wish that Mrs. Reynolds be promoted to housekeeper after her death. Mrs. Reynolds simply knew all of Lady Anne's wishes and desires for how the family would go on without her. Mrs. Reynolds had been married when she first joined the staff, an unusual circumstance as most of the female house staff were unmarried. Unfortunately, her husband died shortly after her employment began and she never had children of her own. It was no great stretch for her to give her love to Lady Anne and her children.

As usual, Mrs. Reynolds anticipated her Master's needs and desires. She knocked at the door of his study carrying a tray with two cups of coffee. "May I come in, Sir?"

"Of course, Mrs. Reynolds. I was going to speak to you after I finished this letter."

"I can just leave the coffee, Sir, and come back later."

"No, come in. The letter can wait, but what I wish to discuss cannot. Please close the door." Mrs. Reynolds set the tray on his desk and handed Darcy one of the cups. "I would like to discuss the Mistress with you, Mrs. Reynolds. Does she seem well to you?"

"Sir, may I speak frankly?"

"You always do, ma'am."

"No. She does not." Darcy was a bit stunned at the bluntness of this reply, but was not all that surprised to hear it. "She tires more easily. She seems thin and pale. She is obviously very much in love with you, Sir, but her heart just does not seem to be into anything she is doing. Not like before, when you first married."

"Your observations mirror my own."

"Sir?"

"Her enthusiasm, her zest for life seems gone."

"Yes, Sir. That is it exactly. Her zest for life is gone."

"How long have you noticed this?"

"It has come on gradually, now that I think on it, Sir. But, I must date it from the time that Mr. and Mrs. Bennett were visiting with their daughter and son-in-law."

"Yes, and Mary was ill was she not? For a little while."

"Well, Sir, she suffered a miscarriage." At his shocked expression she added, "Did not Mrs. Darcy discuss it with you?"

"No. She just said she was ill. She seemed uncomfortable about it and I did not press her for details."

"Of course, Sir."

"Mrs. Reynolds, could you do something for me?"

"Of course, Mr. Darcy. Anything I can do to help."

"Mrs. Bingley has written to Mrs. Darcy asking her to visit for the remainder of her confinement. Mrs. Darcy seems reluctant to go, citing the Harvest Festival as the reason. I believe there is more to her reluctance than she is stating, especially after our discussion. I asked her to discuss the Festival with you and Cook and lay the plans for it now. Perhaps you could do that today?"

"Would you like me to discuss any other household matters, Sir?"

" Yes. I believe you understand me perfectly. Perhaps we could enjoy another cup of coffee when you have some findings to report?"

"Certainly, Sir." Mrs. Reynolds gathered up the empty coffee cups and put them on her tray. "You do know, Sir, that I consider the Darcys not just my employers, but my family. There is nothing I would not do for you or for the Mistress to help make this a happy home."

"Thank-you, Mrs. Reynolds."

"Mr. Darcy."

Darcy pressed his palms together as if in prayer and pressed his lips to them. He pondered the retreating back of his housekeeper. If there was something going on, he was certain that the ever resourceful Mrs. Reynolds would discover it.


	3. Chapter 3

Early that afternoon, Elizabeth met with Cook and Mrs. Reynolds in her study to discuss the upcoming Harvest Festival. The yearly festival was the brain-child of the late Mrs. Darcy, Fitzwilliam's mother, who designed the original as a feast to thank all the workers for their hard work to bring in the harvest and assure the survival of Pemberley for another year. After her death, Mrs. Reynolds continued the tradition, but it was much more low-key than before the Mistress's passing. The late Mr. Darcy would make an appearance and give a short speech, but did not take part in any of the activities. Likewise, after his death, Fitzwilliam allowed and encouraged the festival, but did not take part any more than his father had. It was not that he was not grateful to the tenants, but that his heart and mind were occupied with the grief of losing his father and the care of his sister and the estate. Also, despite knowing most the of the tenants his entire life, he was still not comfortable in large crowds and being the center of attention. After his marriage to Elizabeth, the festival changed.

Elizabeth believed that everyone had worked to bring in the harvest, including the Master of the estate and he, as well as the entire family, should take part in the party. Fitzwilliam still gave a short speech of gratitude, but there was also a dance and music. Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth opened the dance, but she also danced with the steward and any other male tenant that asked. The first year, after Mr. Andrews, she only danced with a few boys who were dared into it by their peers. But, seeing the happy and graceful Mrs. Darcy honor them with a turn on the dance floor encouraged others. This openness from the Mistress allowed many of the tenants to feel more at ease in approaching both the Master and the Mistress with concerns. Since reinvigorating the Harvest Festival, things had run smoother at Pemberley.

After confirming the date and the menu, lamenting that last year's musical group had disbanded and deciding on another from Lambton, Elizabeth and Cook discussed the possibility of a children's choir singing hymns of rejoicing. Mrs. Reynolds decided to send notes to the local ministers to see what could be done. In the last few years, Georgiana could be called upon to provide the music to accompany the children, but Mrs. Reynolds asked if Elizabeth could do it herself.

Elizabeth laughed, "As long as the hymns are simple and the children sing loud enough to drown out my mistakes, I'll be happy to help. As soon as the ministers have replied, let us plan a rehearsal schedule."

"Very good, Ma'am." Mrs. Reynolds was pleased to see the Mistress willing to participate in the festivities. "Will the dance be held as last year?"

"Oh, yes, I suppose," Elizabeth answered absently. "It will depend on how I am feeling that day. Sometimes, I just am so tired in the evenings. I will need to be sure and nap earlier that day." Mrs Reynolds gave Cook a significant look.

"Is there anything else, Mrs. Darcy? I've bread in the oven," asked Cook.

Elizabeth consulted her list. "No, I think that is all. Be sure to pull any maids or footmen as needed to prepare the feast, Cook."

"Thank-you, Ma'am," and Cook went back to her kitchens.

"Mrs. Darcy?" asked Mrs. Reynolds.

"Yes, Mrs. Reynolds. Did I forget anything?"

"No, not about the Festival. I was wondering if you are well?"

"Mrs. Reynolds, not you too! I am perfectly well and you are dismissed." Elizabeth turned in a huff to her desk to begin sorting the lists.

"Forgive me, ma'am, but you are not well."

"Mrs. Reynolds!"

"Please hear me, Ma'am. I've spoken to Becky and -"

"What does my personal maid have to do with anything?"

"Becky states that you have been sleeping more and eating less. You do not go for walks around the grounds as you used to. She said it seemed you had lost your zest of life." Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak, but Mrs. Reynolds interrupted. "Please, Ma'am. This morning, Mr. Darcy also discussed similar concerns with me. I do not presume that it is my place for you to confide in me. I only ask that you think about everyone's concerns and speak with Mr. Darcy. If it is truly nothing, then put his mind at ease. He loves you so. If it is more than nothing, perhaps he can help."

Elizabeth had turned to the window during this speech and stood with her back perfectly straight. "That will be all, ." When the door closed, her back crumpled a little and she whispered, "I am afraid I am beyond help."


	4. Chapter 4

Late in the afternoon, after returning from the fields, bathing and dressing, Darcy still had not seen his wife that day. From his study on the main floor, he summoned a footman. "Please send Mrs. Darcy to me."

"Sir, she went walking earlier today and has not returned."

"Thank-you." Darcy, leaned back in his chair, thinking. Elizabeth stopped taking walks of any significant length over the summer. It was nearly time for dinner and she was still out. Darcy called the footman back. "Please tell Cook that my wife and I will dine in our rooms tonight and have dinner held until we call for it."

"Very good, Sir."

Darcy pulled on his great-coat and hat and walked with long strides towards the small family graveyard on the side of Pemberley chapel. In the old days, it was used for the family to attend daily mass. But, since the Reformation the chapel was little used except for small family funerals and weddings. Georgiana was christened there because their mother was too weak to attend the main church in Kympton. Darcy and Elizabeth had buried their two sons there.

In the fall, after Georgiana's Season in the first year of their marriage, Elizabeth had been brought to bed much too early. The tiny boy cried only once and then his breathing slowly faded. Nearly a year later, at the middle of the next summer, it had happened again, but this time, the boy was born dead. Elizabeth had been ill for several weeks following these deliveries. The doctors had told him that it was a great loss of blood and a great deal grief that kept her to her bed, but that she was young and strong and would recover. It was now nearly 15 months since the last boy had been born and died. There had been no announcements from his wife and she seemed to be fading before his eyes. He would look for her at the cemetary first.

The sight that met him as he opened the cemetary's gate made his heart stop and then leap to his throat. His beloved wife was lying between the graves of their sons. Her bonnet was off and her hair was coming loose in the breeze. As he moved closer, he saw that she had been crying and it seemed as if she had cried herself to sleep.

"Elizabeth," he murmured softly, gathering her up in his arms. "Elizabeth, we must return to the house."

"Hmm?" she mumbled. "Where are we?"

"You are with the boys. We must go indoors."

"Oh, Fitzwilliam," she cried as she looked up at his face. "I am so sorry." She began to weep again.

"All will be well, my love. Let me take care of you."


	5. Chapter 5

An hour after Darcy had found her, Elizabeth had bathed and dressed in a warm nightdress and gown and tucked in with blankets near the fire. Darcy also undressed and wore a nightshirt and gown. He approached Elizabeth with a tray of bread, cheese, fruit and a bottle of wine. He tried to control his feelings, but he felt frightened and that tended to make him angry. He was so worried about Elizabeth and frightened for her, but the only person he could find to blame was her for pulling away from him and allowing this to go so far.

"Elizabeth," he said as he approached her chair. "Are you warm enough?"

"Yes, thank-you. Is that dinner?"

"Yes, well, a snack. I didn't know how hungry you would be."

"I am a little hungry." Darcy set the tray on a side table and offered her some bread and cheese. He poured them each a glass of the wine. He took his glass and walked to the fireplace and studied the flames.

"Do you still love me?"

Elizabeth nearly choked on her food. "What? How can you possibly think that? How can you doubt my love for you?"

"Something is happening to you, Elizabeth. You used to tease and laugh and bring life to even the dullest room. Now, you sit and stare out the window or at the fire. You do not talk to me. If I ask if you are well, you always say yes. But, you are not. Any fool can see it. Why won't you confide in me?"

"Fitzwilliam, I am more in love with you every day. This summer has been hard, but I will be myself again soon."

"Why was it hard? Mrs. Reynolds said that your sister, Mary, miscarried. Did that upset you? She is young and newly wed. There is no cause for undue alarm."

"No, it isn't just that. Mary's loss made me think of ours."

"But, Elizabeth, the last boy died over a year ago. Why are you still dwelling on that?"

"Fitzwilliam, love, I have been - ," Elizabeth paused and he knelt at her side and took her hand. "I've been keeping things from you."

"What?"

"I've lost more than the two babies," she whispered.

"What do you mean, my love?"

"Since we married, I have been pregnant seven times and I have lost all of them. I have lost all of your children." Her voice remained steady and strong, but a single tear trickled down her cheek. "I tried so hard, but I couldn't hold on to them. I couldn't keep them safe. I lost them all."

"Oh, my darling - "

"At first, I thought it was just natural. Miscarriage is common enough. But, it kept happening again and again. Then, I kept one for nearly 5 months. When he cried at his birth, I thought I had miscalculated my dates, but then he never cried again." He pulled her into his arms and she laid her head on his chest.

"It kept happening. A few days, a few weeks of hope, but then my hopes would be dashed with blood and pain -," and her voice broke and she became so over-come, she could not speak. He held her and rocked and crooned softly in her ear until the shudders stopped and she looked up at him.

"Are you going to send me away, now?"

At this, Darcy's steel resolve faltered and two tears made their way from his eyes too. "Oh, my love! My Elizabeth! No! Why would I send you away?"

"Because I cannot carry your child. Perhaps Lady Catherine was right, originally. I have left my sphere and am too low to carry a child of yours."

"Elizabeth Darcy! Even Aunt Catherine has recanted those hateful words and is pleased to see us happy. She admitted to me last year at Rosings that she had never seen me better. She approves of you, Elizabeth. You are perfect for me and I will never let you go!" He clutched her to his breast and he shuddered, imagining life without her. "You may not leave me!" he ordered staring deep into her eyes. "You are my wife and I will never be apart from you."

"But, Fitzwilliam. I cannot..."

"No. You must understand this. I do not care if you deliver ten children or none. I want you in my life. You are my life. I didn't marry you to be a brood mare. Tell me you understand. Tell me you believe me."

She looked up into his eyes and saw fear, desperation and deep, deep love. "Yes. I understand. We will be together forever."

"We will figure this out and conquer it together."

"Yes." She raised her head more and their lips met in a kiss of passion and determination. It was reassurance. It was a renewal of their marriage covenant.

Later, Darcy held Elizabeth on the chaise lounge, stroking her hair absently and staring into the dying fire. "Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant all those times."

She looked at the fire for several minutes before she answered. "Before our marriage, Mama spoke to me and Jane about marriage and a woman's duties. She told us of the signs of early pregnancy, but cautioned us not to say anything to our husbands until we felt the quickening. She said that men do not understand all the subtleties of the feminine sex and would be confused if the suspected child did not come to be. I thought she was right. How disappointed you would be to discover your child was lost."

"No more than you. My love, you have carried such a burden all alone for too long."

"Do you want me to tell you the next time I suspect anything?"

"Yes. Perhaps there is something I can do."

"I doubt it, Fitzwilliam. You'll just worry and walk on eggshells around me. I don't want that."

He bent and kissed the top of her head. "Well, I will worry. You know me too well. But, just as the estate business has become our business, the family should be our business as well."

"No, babies are the wife's affair."

"Should we stop discussing crops and tenants and investments?"

"Fitzwilliam, we have discussions, but you ultimately make the final decisions."

"Do you really think that?" She looked up at him and smiled. "I do listen to your opinion you know." He smiled back at her. "Now, I may not understand all the - what? 'Subtleties of the feminine sex?'" She laughed softly. "But, one thing I do know is that if you are to conceive and carry a child you must be healthy first." Her smile faded slowly and she looked down. He reached for her chin and lifted it up to gaze at her eyes. "You cannot deny that all these losses and worries and grief have not taken a toll on you."

"You are correct, Fitzwilliam."

"It has taken a toll on us. We must heal together. I need to ride out one more time this harvest, which I shall do tomorrow. Then, we can spend time together. We must talk, but now you must sleep and I am tired too."

They rose from the chaise and walked to the bed. As she turned to blow out the candle on her side, she took his hand and looked up at him earnestly. "I love you so, Fitzwilliam. I want to be happy."

"We shall be, dearest." He kissed her softly, on the brow, the nose, each cheek and then her lips. "We shall."


	6. Chapter 6

The rest of the fall went well. The harvest was brought in and the Festival was a success. The excitement was a bit less exuberant than anticipated, but the Master and Mistress both attended and talked and laughed and danced. If they retired early, no one commented upon it.

Jane Bingley was to be brought to bed at the end of November. It was planned that Elizabeth would travel to Parkland two days after the Harvest Festival and Darcy would follow in a week's time. He wanted to settle things at home for the winter so he could stay with the Bingleys as long as necessary. He remembered the state his friend was in when his son was born and anticipated a long recovery for both mother and father.

The afternoon before she was to leave, Darcy found her writing out one last list before her departure.

"We did not starve before you came, Mrs. Darcy," he teased.

"Oh, honestly! Who taught the stiff Mr. Darcy how to tease?"

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and kissed her neck down to her shoulder where the sleeve of her gown began. "The delectable Mrs. Darcy," he murmured.

"Fitzwilliam," she whispered.

"Yes?" he answered, still kissing her shoulder.

"I have...suspicions."

"Hmm?" He looked up. "What sorts of suspicions?"

"Oh, you are ignorant of the subtleties of the feminine sex! I have suspicions... regarding your future progeny."

"Suspicions! Oh! Are you ill? Are you faint? Should you lie down?"

"Fitzwilliam! Stop fussing. I am merely late."

His brow contracted as he processed this information. Her eyebrows lifted as she watched him comprehend. "Late."

"Two days."

"Late."

"Yes. And I am always very precise, even after the losses and miscarriages. After my recovery, I return to my very precise calender. Therefore, I have suspicions."

"Suspicions."

"I will still go to Jane tomorrow?"

"Do you think it best? Should we consult with a midwife or a physician? Perhaps you should go to bed." He stood up and began to pace in front of the windows. She knew from past experience that he was thinking and deliberating seriously.

"Jane does need me. There has been no rain lately. The roads should be good. Nothing is certain. I am merely suspicious."

He stopped pacing abruptly and turned to her. He took her hands and kissed each. "I'll go with you. Anything I planned to do this week can be done by letter."

"I shall go ask your valet to begin packing. You go speak with Mr. Andrews about the change of plan."

They turned to leave the room.

"Elizabeth?"

"Yes?"

"I am so very glad you are suspicious."


	7. Chapter 7

The weather in early November was cool and crisp, but it did not rain and the sun shone most days. Bingley and Darcy rode out over the estate most mornings. They had been there one year and Darcy had offered advice both before and after the purchase, but Bingley was an excitable novice and still desirous of Darcy's help.

When the sisters had greeted each other, they were both over-come at the changes in their persons. Jane was entirely round from her cheeks to her belly to her feet. Elizabeth was hollow. Her cheeks were thin and when they embraced, Jane could feel the bones of her back. But, her eyes were sparkling and Darcy looked at her protectively. Despite the changes, she seemed happy.

Little Charlie was a bundle of energy as only a two-year-old Bingley could be. He was eager to see his favorite aunt and uncle. His mother talked of her sister often and though he had seen her but little, Charlie had a sort of hero-worship built up in his mind of his dear aunt Lizzie.

One early afternoon about a week after the Darcys arrival, Jane and Elizabeth were walking in the small garden near the house protected from the wind. Elizabeth could not get over the change in Jane. When little Charlie was born, Elizabeth stayed at home, recovering from the first late miscarriage so she did not see Jane late in her pregnancy - only soon after the birth.

"Jane, I cannot get over how radiant you are! Your increasing state certainly agrees with you."

"I am not as comfortable as I look, dearest, Lizzie. My feet ache at the end of the day and my back bothers me most constantly, especially when little Charlie demands my attention. But, the midwife estimates no more than 2 weeks and then a new baby to cuddle and love."

Elizabeth's smile faltered just a moment at Jane's words, but Jane knew her well enough to detect it.

"Enough about me. How are you? Are you well? Dearest, you seem so altered since the summer."

"Oh, Jane. I do not want to say. I do not want to worry you at this time."

"Now, I am worried, Lizzie. Please tell me."

They walked to a stone bench in the shade and Elizabeth helped her sister to sit comfortably. Jane took her hand.

"Have you not wondered, with you expecting your second and Kitty and Georgiana with one each and Lydia with three, why I have no children?"

"I assumed you had difficulties after the loss last year."

"I have had difficulties. Only recently have I told Fitzwilliam of all the difficulties I have had. I have suffered a total of seven miscarriages, Jane."

"Oh, Lizzie!" Jane embraced her. "Why did you not say something to me? I could have helped you."

"They were all very early and what could you do?"

"Anything, Elizabeth. I would do anything."

"Well, the time for concern is over. Just before we left, I had some suspicions and the longer I am here, the more suspicious I become. I am only 2 weeks late, but I am starting to experience some of the signs."

"Oh, how wonderful. Have you told Fitzwilliam?"

"This time I did. I never told him until I felt the quickening those two times. Do you tell Charles as soon as you suspect?"

"I do not need to tell him. He always knows!"

"How?"

"He says I become less than serene!" The two sisters laughed and embraced.

Ten days later after dinner, Elizabeth was playing a simple song on the old piano-forte that came with the house. Bingley was reading the paper and Darcy was writing to his steward. Jane started the evening sitting quietly near the instrument, but abruptly rose and looked out the windows. Then, she began to walk in front of them. Gradually, she become more agitated and determined in her pacing.

"Jane, love. Sit beside me," said Bingley. "I'll read aloud."

"No, Charles," she snapped. "Why you would think I would want to hear news of a foolish war is beyond me!"

Darcy and Bingley exchanged glances and Elizabeth stopped in the middle of the song. "Jane," she asked quietly. "Are you well?"

"Of course, Elizabeth! You needn't all treat me like I was made of glass!" She then suddenly bent at the middle and clutched her belly, moaning softly.

"Jane!" Bingley cried and went to her. "Did it just start?"

"No," she gasped. "It began at dinner."

"Why didn't you say anything? Darcy, have Wallace call for the midwife. Elizabeth, ring for a footman to send for hot water, Jane's maid and Mrs. Smythe. What else should I do?" Bingley literally turned on the spot.

"Help me upstairs!" whispered Jane. "And take me to the nursery first. I need to see Charlie."

Four hours later, an exhausted Elizabeth found her husband clutching an empty glass in front of the fire in Bingley's study. Bingley had been sent for thirty minutes before to see his wife and new daughter. After seeing the new family was well, Elizabeth went in search of her husband.

"Fitzwilliam?" she whispered. He turned and pulled her to him, holding her tighter and tighter. "Are you well, love?"

"When you had the boys we lost..." He buried his face in her neck. "It sounded so horrible from outside your door. But they were so little. You were not nearly the size of Jane. How will you? How will I? How can I? Oh, Elizabeth! Are you sure a child is what you want?"

"Fitzwilliam, my love. It likely sounded horrible because you did not know what was happening. The midwife encouraged Jane to scream. It helps to birth the child. It must be awful to listen to, but..."

"I know it hurts. I saw her face in the drawing room. She was afraid too and wanted to see her son one last time."

"Dearest, if you could have seen the look on her face when the child was born and she held her for the first time! There was no pain or fear; just pure love and bliss. Jane is happy and well. As I will be when I hold our child for the first time."

He did not respond, but merely held her tighter. "All right."

"If you wish to be with me, I will not object," Elizabeth said quietly. "As much as I love my mother and my sister, I need you more. I have already told you more than a husband is supposed to know." She smiled up at him. "Would you like to learn all my secrets?"

"If you wish me there, my dearest love. I will be. As I have said, together we can do anything."

"Yes, love. We can."


	8. Chapter 8

Georgiana had married a Scotsman who had come south to look for a bride. He was a third son of a poor Scottish baron and had trained to be a physician at the school in Edinburgh. Angus Macduff moved south to London to search for a practice to join and a bride. He desired a rich bride for obvious financial reasons - his practice was nearly nonexistent and his father had little to give a third son. But, he did not merely want a pretty face and a rich purse to dress his arm and bear his heirs. He wanted an intelligent, witty woman who could be a true partner in his life.

Angus had met Georgiana at a small soiree held in the home of mutual friends. Angus had been in London about one year and was beginning to be more busy. He had joined a practice with an older physician - Dr. Smythe who acted as a mentor and father-figure to the younger doctor. He planned to retire in the next few years and give the practice over to Angus entirely.

Angus was loud and abrupt and he didn't "sugar-coat" anything. It disconcerted some of his more gentile patients, but once they were over the shock, the appreciated the Scottish doctor's no-nonsense approach to their diagnoses and treatments. To the quiet, shy Georgiana, he seemed to be exactly opposite of her ideal husband. But after meeting him at the party, dancing with him twice and sitting with him at dinner, her opinion changed. Angus was instantly charmed by this quiet, intelligent woman who seemed to have lived so much in her eighteen years. Her peaceful nature seemed a balance to his boisterousness. He called on her several times and quickly gained the approval of her brother. Her other guardian, Colonel Fitzwilliam, was a little more difficult to convince. He and his parents had always thought Georgiana would marry a peer, not a third son who was a physician. But, soon, all saw how Georgiana mellowed the doctor and how the doctor appreciated and brought out the quiet wit in her. They were betrothed for a month and married quietly at Pemberley, a half-way point between their two families.

Because Angus' practice was in London, they set up residence at the Darcy family's London townhouse. Georgiana and Elizabeth got along so well, there was never any disputes over who was the proper mistress. Georgiana and Angus had a baby girl just one year after their marriage and the little Anne Elizabeth was now six months old.

Elizabeth was reluctant to leave Jane so soon after the birth of her niece, so the Darcy's decided to forego a large Christmas gathering at Pemberley. Instead, the family gathered at the Bingley estate, Parkland. All who were able of the extended family joined them. Angus and Georgiana decided the weather was mild enough to venture north, although the usual three day journey took them nearly five. Kitty and her husband, Reverend Tucker, came from Kympton on Christmas night, after he had delivered his last Christmas sermon. Although Lydia and Wickham were geographically close to Parkland and Derbyshire, they did not have the money and Darcy and Bingley did not have the generosity to bring them. The Hursts were hosting Bingley's sister Caroline. Mary, the last of the Bennett sisters, stayed closer to Hertfordshire and their parents with her husband.

The entire group gathered for an elaborate Christmas Feast on Christmas Night. Little Betsey was nearly a month, Charlie two years, Kitty's daughter thirteen months and Georgiana's little Anne was six months. The three girls were not very interested in Christmas, but Charlie nearly talked Dr. Uncle Angus' ear off with descriptions of gifts and activities that was occasionally nearly unintelligible due to the two-year-old tongue. Charlie continued to chatter away in a softer and softer tones and his stories were punctuated with yawns when his father took him up to his nurse. The girls were tucked in as well and the adults conversed quietly in the drawing room.

Angus approached Darcy, who was pouring drinks in the corner.

"A good measure of Scotch, I assume, for the good doctor?" Darcy asked his brother, smiling.

"We don't wean our babes on it, like the Irish, but it is the drink of a true Scotsman." They clinked glasses and took a drink, Darcy's significantly smaller than the doctor's. "How is everyone at Pemberley? With the new babe at home, we've hardly seen anyone."

"We are well, thank-you, Angus."

"Forgive me, brother. But not all of you are well."

"Pardon me?"

"The lovely Mrs. Darcy appears a bit wan. Has she been ill?"

"Ah," Darcy trusted his brother-in-law, but did not like to discuss private business with just anyone and his wife and their relationship was certainly private. He had not even discussed their difficulties with Bingley. There was no way to deny it, the shrewd doctor's eye quickly caught what had taken Darcy several months to notice and admit to. Angus' famous bluntness would become loud if Darcy continued to try to skirt the issue.

"Come, come man. Let me help. I love her like a sister. Mrs. Darcy has been invaluable to Georgie and I will be forever grateful. I won't even charge you." He raised his eyebrow and smirked. Then, he held out his glass for a refill.

Darcy glanced across the room and Elizabeth who was chatting quietly with Kitty and Georgiana. She had asked him to help her, but neither knew how he could. Perhaps this was the way. "You know we married with the Bingleys, a little over three years ago." The doctor nodded. "We have briefly mentioned the boys we lost when they were born too early." Angus nodded again. "Before we came to Parkland for Mrs. Bingley's confinement, Mrs. Darcy told me she has lost a total of seven pregnancies." The word "pregnancy" was less painful to him than "baby." Angus nodded a third time. "A few weeks after confiding in me, Mrs. Darcy told me of her suspicions regarding an eighth pregnancy. She has not felt a quickening, but her suspicions continue."

"How far along would she be if it were true?"

"About 8 weeks."

"Early indeed. However, that alone does not explain the wanness. Does she eat? Exercise?"

"Yes, but not like she did at the start of our marriage. Lately, she has returned her food in the mornings."

The doctor studied his Scotch. "Hmm. Would it be presumptuous of me to speak to her myself? Would she take offense?"

"I think at first she would. When I discussed her health with her earlier in the fall, her first response was that she was well, just tired. When I pressed and brought up all the evidence collected by observations from myself, the housekeeper and her personal maid, she told me. I think it relieved her mind to discuss the issue. Let us approach her together. She wants the help, but does not know how or where to get it. When I offer to help her, she says, 'But what can _you _really do?'"

"Very well, let us pull her aside in the morning while the mothers are busy with the babes. Perhaps Bingley can take Tucker for ride after breakfast."

"Excellent. I'll make the suggestion to Bingley now."

"Then take your bride to bed. She is nearly asleep, talking with her sister." The two men looked across the room and smiled.


	9. Chapter 9

Boxing Day dawned bright and cold. Darcy turned to his beautiful, sleeping wife and gently pushed a stray lock of hair off her forehead. Elizabeth smiled sleepily and opened her eyes. "Good morning, my love."

"Good morning, dearest wife." He bent and kissed her softly. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mmm, yes. Quite well. And you?"

"I always sleep well in your arms." She smiled a bit brighter and leaned in to kiss him. "Are you feeling well today?"

"Oh, yes. I feel quite well, but I usually do until I rise. Jane suggested some tea and toast before I attempt to dress. It worked well yesterday."

"I'll send for Becky. Stay in bed and keep warm. I'll stir up the fire as well." Darcy rose and donned his dressing gown. He first pulled the bell-cord that summoned the servants then moved to the fire and began to add logs to the embers.

"If I had known what prodigious care you would take of me, Mr. Darcy, I would have revealed all of my secrets to you long ago."

Darcy paused in his work at the fireplace. "Love, Dr. Macduff asked about your health last night." He looked over to her as she looked down to her lap. "He wants to speak to you today."

Her head snapped up. "You didn't say anything to him, did you?"

"He asked if you had been ill. I told him you had not, but he kept pressing. I did not want to lie. I told him about our losses; all of them."

"Oh, Fitzwilliam!" Elizabeth wailed and flung herself back against the pillows.

He hurried to her side and took her hands in his. "Elizabeth, will you at least admit to me that we need help? Seven miscarriages is not natural. It is not just something that happens occasionally. There is something wrong and neither of us knows what it is. Macduff is a very intelligent man and he is family. He will be discreet."

Elizabeth opened her eyes and raised an eyebrow at the word, "discreet."

"He will. He proposed talking with you while our sisters are busy in the morning with the babies. I suggested that Bingley take Tucker on a ride. No one need know of our concerns. However, you must realize that everyone in this house loves you and only wants the best for you. Why keep our troubles a secret?"

"It is a private matter, Fitzwilliam. I am just coming to terms with your knowledge of the problem."

"If I knew what to do or how to fix it, I would, but I do not and I cannot. Let me seek advice from a trusted friend. If there was a problem on the estate, you would advise the same."

"I am not the estate! I am your wife and this is a private, intimate matter between just the two of us."

"Elizabeth, if I do not have an heir, then I cannot ensure the future of Pemberley. In a way, our lack of a child is an estate matter."

A tear trickled down her cheek. "I never thought of that. Now I feel even worse for not confiding in you sooner."

"Will you speak with Dr. Macduff?"

"Yes, but only if you stay with me."

There was a slight tap on the door as Becky entered with a tray of tea and toast. She set the tray on a table and Darcy turned towards the dressing room.

"Fitzwilliam? You'll stay with me?"

"Of course, my love."

After a bit of tea and toast, Elizabeth dressed and went downstairs to the breakfast room. No one other than her husband and Dr. Macduff were there. "Good morning, gentlemen."

The two men rose. "Good morning, Mrs. Darcy." Dr. Macduff bowed.

"I understand from my husband that you wished to speak with me." Elizabeth sat and placed her napkin in her lap.

"Yes, ma'am. I would like to discuss your health, but if you would like to break your fast first and retire to a more private location I will understand."

Elizabeth looked at her husband as he took a sip of coffee. He nodded nearly imperceptibly. "No, sir. My understanding is that everyone else is occupied this morning and that the servants have been excused. I believe the discussion may commence at your leisure."

"Your husband states you believe you may be increasing."

Elizabeth threw down her fork. "Oh, for goodness sake, Angus! If we are to have an embarrassing conversation, then let us just state the facts. I am 7 weeks late and I believe I am with child." Elizabeth's cheeks flushed, but she still did not have her normal healthy glow.

"Forgive me, Elizabeth. You believe you are pregnant? You also seem to be pale and a bit thinner than last summer. How is your health overall?"

"I have noticed that some of my gowns are looser than usual. I have been a bit tired, but I am sure that is just due to the child."

"My dear," Darcy interjected. "You have been tired and napping more often since before you told me of you suspicions." Elizabeth glared at Darcy. "We need to be honest, love. How else can he help us?"

"I assume since Fitzwilliam told you of my suspicions, he has told you that we have lost several children?" Darcy winced slightly. "After every loss, it takes me some time to become myself again. With the boys, it took longer. However, the last two losses seemed to sap my strength more than usual. I did not return to myself before I found myself with child again."

"If I may, Mrs. Darcy," Angus said as he took her hand and inspected the palm. He then took her chin and tilted her face towards the light and looked into her eyes. "It is my belief that you are suffering from anemia as well as early pregnancy. In laymen's terms, your blood is weak. We must strengthen it or you will not be able to support the child."

"Is this anemia the cause of our losses?" asked Darcy.

"Possibly. It is difficult to conjecture about the past. Your wife is anemic now and suffering the symptoms of early pregnancy. There are some simple remedies that can aid her progress - certain dietary changes and a few draughts. I will write out my prescriptions. Perhaps this can help."

Elizabeth, seizing the possibility of a healthy infant, jumped to her feet and embraced her brother-in-law. "Oh, Angus! Forgive my earlier reticence. Thank-you for your advice and for pushing me to discuss this subject. I feel better already."

"You also need rest, Elizabeth. Do not over-exert yourself. The anemia makes you weak as well. I'll send up my list to your rooms later."

"Thank-you, Angus." Darcy extended his hand to his brother.

"My pleasure, sir. What is family for?"


	10. Chapter 10

Darcy awoke in the cold darkness. He could sense that something was not right, but could not yet determine what it was. He blinked a few times, trying to accustom his eyes to the darkness. He turned towards Elizabeth. He only found a cold bed and an empty pillow. "Elizabeth?" he called quietly. No response. He pushed the covers off and swung his legs out of bed. Instinct pulled him towards her dressing room. There was a dim light coming from the crack under the door. He knocked gently. "Lizzie?" he said as he pushed the door open.

The sight in front of him made him pause. There was a nearly burnt out candle in its holder on the floor. Elizabeth was curled into a ball, clutching her abdomen on the floor. She was biting her lip and her eyes were squeezed shut. Her cheeks were stained with tears and her gown was stained with blood.

"Lizzie!" Darcy cried and ran towards her. "Lizzie?" He reached for her, but she turned from him. "Elizabeth? What is it? Is it the baby?" He knelt near her. She nodded almost imperceptibly. He reached for her again and stroked her back. "Oh, my love." They sat in silence a moment, then the Master of Pemberley took over. "We must get you off this cold floor."

"No, Fitzwilliam. I'm fine," she whispered through tears and then gasped as another pain took her.

"Elizabeth Darcy. You are ill and in pain. You cannot lie on this cold floor." He picked her up bodily and took her back to the bedroom. He laid her on the bed and pulled all the covers around her.

She protested quietly. "Fitzwilliam, I am bleeding. I cannot..."

"Yes you can, Elizabeth." He pulled the bell-cord three times and move to the fireplace to stir up the fire. Then, he began to light several candles. There was a quiet knock on the door. "Come," he called.

Becky, Elizabeth's personal maid opened the door a crack. "You rang, sir?"

"Mrs. Darcy is ill, Becky. Help me see to her comfort."

"Madam?" Becky looked over to Elizabeth in the bed.

"Yes, Becky," Elizabeth said quietly and then turned her face into the pillow.

"I shall summon Mrs. Reynolds."

"Call for the doctor as well," Darcy ordered.

"Yes sir."

Three hours later, Elizabeth was ensconced in bed. She had been bathed and dressed in a clean gown and the sheets on the bed had been changed. She lay quietly under a mountain of blankets that were pulled up to her chin. She seemed to be asleep. Her face was pale and there were dark circles around her eyes. Her dark hair lay lank around her head. Darcy watched her from the door. He leaned against the door frame and brought his fist to his mouth. Then, he rubbed his open hand over his face and made his way back to the bed.

He watched over her that night and the next day. He often fell into a fitful sleep in a chair or lying beside her on the bed. Mrs. Reynolds chastised him into eating and bathing occasionally, but except for that, he did not leave his wife's side for the better part of a week. Rarely, Elizabeth would open her eyes and be persuaded to take some water or broth. She never spoke. After a few swallows, her eyelids would droop and she would sleep again.

The first morning, frantic, Darcy had called for the midwife and then the local doctor. They both said the same: Elizabeth's bleeding had stopped, she wasn't feverish and her womb was not tender. She was well, but needing to recover. She was simply exhausted. He should let her rest - give fluids when she awoke, but not push her to stay awake. He had believed them for the first two days. That evening, she had opened her eyes, looked at him and actually saw him.

"Dearest, are you well?" he had asked softly. She had turned to the wall and a single tear ran down her cheek. "Lizzie?" He had said and reached to touch her hair. She turned her face further into the pillow and said nothing. "I love you," he whispered and continued to stroke her cheek and her hair. When she went back to sleep, he rose and penned a letter to his brother in London.

"Dear Angus, my dear brother. I need your help. Please, come at once."


	11. Chapter 11

Elizabeth had been in bed for nearly seven days when Macduff arrived. It was late and dark and very cold. He had received Darcy's letter two and half days before. It had come with the morning post and he had read it aloud while he and Georgiana had broken their fasts.

His wife's eyes had grown wider and wider as he read Darcy's short, desperate message. Silently she rose from the table and went upstairs. He had risen as well, and went to his office and added a few books on midwifery to his doctor's bag and checked the stores of herbs and medicines he always carried. He was on his way upstairs to pack his clothing, when she met him on the steps, his overnight bag in hand.

"Go and help her, Angus. I've never heard my brother like this before. Help her. Save her. Save him."

He had enfolded his young, sweet wife in his arms and kissed the tears that had streamed down her cheek. "Kiss the baby for me, love," he had whispered into her hair. "I'll send word when I can."

Georgiana's and her brother's words had echoed in his head as he travelled the frozen roads northward. It was with a mild desperation that he had knocked at the door and was admitted to Pemberley. What he would find inside, he knew not what.

The butler had shown him to the drawing room and had taken his things. He stood warming his hands at the fire when the sound of someone entering the room made him turn. He was expecting a maid with hot tea, but it was Darcy. He looked at his brother-in-law. He eyes were red-rimmed with darkened circles beneath. His face was pale and drawn and his hand trembled slightly when he clasped Macduff's.

"Thank-you for coming so quickly."

"Tell me, Darcy. What the hell has happened?"

They started to walk to the stairs, but Darcy turned instead to his private office. Macduff sat silently in the chair opposite the desk and accepted the glass of brandy Darcy poured him. Darcy turned to the fireplace, holding his own glass loosely in his hand.

"She miscarried again a week ago. I found her bleeding on the floor of her dressing room. The bleeding has stopped and she doesn't seem to be suffering from an infection, but she doesn't speak. She sleeps all the time. When she does wake, we try to persuade her to drink a little, but then she drifts off. The local doctor and the midwife all say she needs to rest, but I've never seen her like this. Not when she lost the boys, never." Darcy stopped speaking abruptly and put his free hand over his face. When he spoke again, his voice was muffled and cracked. "I cannot lose her, Angus. I cannot."

Macduff drained his glass, rose and clasped his brother-in-law's shoulder. "Let me see her."

Darcy set his glass on the mantle and silently left the room, leading Macduff to the mistress's chambers where his beloved wife laid sleeping. A maid was sitting quietly near the fire and at her master's nod, left her chair and stood quietly by the door. The entire atmosphere seemed languid. Macduff set his bag down near the foot of the bed and leaned over the still form of Elizabeth. He held her wrist, opened her eye and peered at it. He pulled at her chin and opened her mouth. He rested his hand against her forehead and then needlessly, smoothed the hair back.

"She is very weak, anemic, and she is dehydrated. She needs more fluids."

"But she sleeps so much. How can she drink?"

"There are ways. Summon the housekeeper and the cook. And hand me my bag." At his words, the languid atmosphere dissipated and the maid in the room and footman in the hall jumped and dashed down the hall. Macduff began rifling through the bag and looked up at Darcy. "She will be well, Darcy. And she will need your strength soon. Go to bed. Sleep until I call you. Leave her to me and all will be well."

"I cannot leave - "

"Go to bed, Fitzwilliam. You are practically asleep where you stand. Here." Macduff handed Darcy a small bottle of laudanum. "Have your valet mix 6 drops in a glass of wine. I will call you in the morning."

Rogers magically appeared at his master's shoulder and took the bottle. "I'll see that he takes it, Doctor."

"Thank-you, Rogers. Go to bed, Darcy. I'll call you when I need you. You did the right thing, writing for me. Now, let me do my job."

Darcy sighed deeply again and turned to go through to the master's chamber. It felt as if he was abandoning her, but he was so very tired. "All will be well, Angus?"

"Yes, Fitzwilliam. All will be well." Mrs. Reynolds entered the room and Macduff turned to her. "Ah, Mrs. Reynolds. Sorry to waken you, but here is what I need."

The voices faded as Darcy entered the master's chamber. He walked to his dressing room as if in a trance and Rogers met him there. Mechanically, he removed his clothing and dressed for bed. He turned to dismiss the valet when the man pressed a glass into his palm. "Your medicine, sir."

"Of course," Darcy said quietly and lifted it to his lips. "Macduff cannot help but doctor the whole house." The valet said nothing. "Don't wait for the doctor, Rogers. Call me if there are any changes. Call me if she needs me."

"Yes sir."

Darcy dismissed his man and turned to the bed. It hadn't been used in months, but the linens were fresh and the bed turned down and warmed. He crawled in and pulled up the covers. Immediately, exhaustion over-whelmed his senses. His last thought was of Macduff. "If he is good enough to take care of my dearest sister, then he must be good enough to cure my dearest wife."


	12. Chapter 12

Elizabeth awoke on a cold, bright sunny day. Oh, she had opened her eyes before, but on this day, she was awake. Her mouth felt dry and she felt very weak, but this was the first day she felt _awake._ She turned her head to the sun and looked at the window curtains hanging still in the sunlight. Her eyes moved to the fireplace roaring even in the middle of the day. She turned her head the other way and saw her dear husband speaking quietly to Mrs. Reynolds in the doorway.

"Fitzwilliam," she rasped.

At the sound of her voice, he stopped abruptly and turned to her. "Send for Macduff," he said quietly to the housekeeper and turned to Elizabeth's bedside. "My love," he breathed and sat by the bed. He took up her hand and kissed it. "How are you feeling."

"My lips..."

"Of course." He released her hand and poured a small glass of water. He returned and aided her in sitting up and brought the glass to her lips. She drank greedily and finished the glass. She laid back gratefully.

"What happened?"

"You don't know?" She shook her head. "What do you last remember?"

"I remember we had returned from Parkland. Betsey and Jane were doing so well and there was a break in the weather."

"We've been home for nearly three weeks. You do not remember?" She shook her head. "You've been in and out of consciousness for ten days."

"Did I lose the baby?"

"Yes, my love. I'm sorry." Elizabeth closed her eyes and a single tear trickled down her cheek. Darcy longed to hold her, but she seemed so weak. Finally, he bent down and laid his cheek on her hair. "I've been so worried, Elizabeth."

"What happened?" she asked again.

"I do not know for certain. I awoke in the middle of the night to find you huddled on the floor of your dressing room, bleeding. I got you back to bed, called for the maids and the midwife. You fell asleep and did not awaken until now." She reached a shaky hand up and cupped his cheek. He turned and kissed her palm. "You were so ill. We could hardly get you to drink a thing. You had bled so much. I called for Dr. Macduff."

"Angus is here?" He nodded. "Did he see me?"

"Yes, Elizabeth. I believe I owe him your life."

"Oh, I don't know if I'd go as far as that, Darcy." The couple turned as Macduff entered the room. "How are you today, Mrs. Darcy?" Darcy stepped back, releasing Elizabeth's hand as Macduff's shrewd eyes looked her over.

"I feel - " Elizabeth looked confused. "I feel very weak."

"That is to be expected, after ten days abed. Are you hungry?"

"A bit. Mostly thirsty." Darcy moved to the water pitcher, but Macduff stopped him.

"The maid is coming with some broth with my tinctures."

"What?" Elizabeth asked.

"You were so dehydrated, love, that Angus was force-feeding you, even as you slept."

"The broth is better. It will give you the fluids you need and some nourishment." The maid entered the room with a steaming bowl. She set it on the table and looked at her master. He nodded. "Thank-you, Amy," Macduff said. "Darcy, can you?"

In a practiced move, the men bent over Elizabeth and raised her up on several pillows. Darcy sat next to her and took up the spoon. "Here, love."

"Fitzwilliam, don't be ridiculous. I can feed myself."

"Let me, Elizabeth." His eyes spoke volumes. She nodded slightly and he fed her the broth and she finished it and felt better. Mrs. Reynolds entered and spoke quietly to the master of Pemberley. "Love, would you like to move to the sofa? Mrs. Reynolds would like to change the bed linens."

"All right, Fitzwilliam." She raised her arms and he lifted her and carried her to the sofa near the fireplace. Her gown did little to hide her thinness - he could feel her ribs and her spinal bones through the thin fabric. He sat on the sofa and cuddled his wife in his arms, oblivious to the chamber maids and his brother-in-law nearby. He pressed his face into her thin neck and held her close. Mrs. Reynolds covered them both with a blanket. Elizabeth laid her head on his shoulder.

"I feel sleepy, dearest," she murmured into his chest.

Darcy raised his head. "Can she sleep, Macduff?"

"Yes. She needs her rest. She needs to eat, but she needs her rest. I'll be in my chamber, writing to Georgie."

"Thank-you, Angus."

"My pleasure." Macduff bowed slightly and left the room. Darcy held his wife and she fell asleep in his arms. For the first time in ten days, Darcy believed, truly, that all would be well.


	13. Chapter 13

Because she had been so ill and weak before her latest miscarriage, it took Elizabeth quite some time to recover. It was the early days of March before she was able to resume a somewhat normal life downstairs. She had spent so much time in the "mistress's quarters" that she asked Darcy if she could move into the "master's rooms." He was delighted to accommodate her wishes. He had slept apart from her since her illness, although he would lie down with her for short times while she napped. MacDuff had told him, in no uncertain terms, that "it would behoove Mrs. Darcy to not conceive for some time." Darcy blushed to the tips of his ears at his brother's admonition, but obeyed it none the less. His beloved Elizabeth's health was worth anything, even that.

One sunny morning, after completing their meal in the breakfast room, Elizabeth laid her still thin hand on her husband's arm. "I was thinking of going for a walk around the gardens today, Fitzwilliam. Would you be able to accompany me?"

"Of course, my love. But do you feel up to it? I worry about a relapse."

"Oh, dearest, you worry so. I haven't been out-of-doors since we returned from Parkland. If you come with me, I'm sure I'll be fine. "

"All right. If you can wait until luncheon, I have some business with Mr. Andrews this morning to complete plans for the spring planting."

"That would suit me perfectly. I need to speak to Mrs. Reynolds and answer some letters. I'll see you then." Elizabeth rose, a little shaky, and went out of the breakfast room. Darcy lost her in the sunlight streaming into the hall from the windows over the front door. He sighed. She still seemed so weak, but he had a plan that may remedy that.

Elizabeth spent the morning writing letters to her sisters. She also answered a letter from her dear friend, Charlotte. She sighed, reading over what her friend had written. Charlotte remained somewhat happily married to Elizabeth's cousin, Mr. Collins, rector of Rosings and heir to Longbourn. Elizabeth thought he was a pompous, fawning fool, but Charlotte was happy. She had her house to run and the parish. She also had her son, Lucas, who was nearly two. (The mere thought of his conception caused Elizabeth to shudder.) She hardly ever saw her husband, sending him off to his gardens or Lady Catherine or some errand for the parishioners. She had exactly the life she wanted, and, although it did not appeal to Elizabeth, she was happy for her friend.

News of Elizabeth's illness had shocked her family and circle of friends. She has always seemed so hale and strong and an illness that brought her near death was shocking. Charlotte had wanted to come to Pemberley and nurse her, as had Jane. But once Elizabeth awoke, she told Darcy to tell them she was fine and they had their own families to care for. Besides, Jane was still nursing little Betsey (just like Queen Charlotte!) and the Collins could ill-afford a long trip north and Darcy could ill-afford time spent with the doting Mr. Collins.

Elizabeth wrote to both Jane and Charlotte, as well as Kitty, Mary and her mother. (Lydia did not write when Darcy sent word of her illness, which was not that surprising.) The letters were short, mostly assuring them that she was well on her way to a full recovery. She had nothing but kind words for Dr. MacDuff, whom she believed to be instrumental in her survival, despite his constant self-deprecating comments.

The morning passed quickly for Elizabeth with her letters and her short meeting with Mrs. Reynolds. The housekeeper reassured the mistress that all was well and there was nothing that needed her attention. "Just concentrate on getting well, Madam. We'll take care of the rest."

"But I know the tenants..."

"The tenants know you've been ill and only want your speedy and complete recovery," Mrs. Reynolds interrupted. "You just need to get well, completely well, and then you can begin to concern yourself on estate matters. I managed just fine for Mr. Darcy before his marriage. Not that I could ever replace you, ma'am, but we are getting by and everyone understands."

"All right, Mrs. Reynolds. I'll continue to let it all remain in your capable hands."

"Yes, ma'am."

Darcy found her shortly after noon with a half-written letter on her desk, staring out into the spring sunlight. He smiled. It was an attitude he had often found her, before her illness, looking longingly at the outdoors while neglecting her work at the desk. Too often, her fingers were stained with ink and the page blotched as she absently stopped writing in mid-sentence. "Hello, love."

She turned quickly. "Oh, Fitzwilliam, you startled me."

"It is lunch-time, Mrs. Darcy. I believe we had an appointment."

"So we did." She put the pen in its holder and left the unfinished letter on her desk. She had finished the others and then decided to write to Lydia anyway. She might as well let her youngest, flighty sister know she wasn't dead. Besides, Lydia hardly could afford food let alone postage. She rose from the desk, leaving the letter for later. "Shall we lunch then, before our walk?" she asked.

"I had a better idea," he answered. From his side, he produced a basket. "I thought we'd walk for a bit then picnic. It will give you the chance to rest, lest you become tired. Is that all right?"

"Oh, it is perfect. What a wonderful idea. Let me get my things," she said brushing a kiss on his cheek as she passed him in the doorway. She nearly ran into the maid, holding her bonnet, gloves and pelisse. "You think of everything," she said over her shoulder with a saucy grin. Except for the thinness of her face, it was so very like the Lizzie he had courted that Darcy's heart skipped a beat.

Soon, the two lovers were descending the front steps arm in arm, heading toward the "wild garden." Pemberley hosted a variety of gardens including a formal garden with fountains, a rose garden, vegetable and herbs, but this "wild garden" was the brainchild of Elizabeth. She wanted an area that had reminded her of her girlhood rambles in the forests surrounding Longbourn and so among the trees, the Pemberley gardeners had sown wildflower seeds and let it go "wild" and grow as it might. There were globeflowers, maiden pink, rock roses, sandworts and pansies, among others, scattered among the dirt paths that ambled through the dappled sunlight from the chestnuts, oaks and yews. Elizabeth loved it.

After meandering for twenty minutes, Elizabeth asked what was in the picnic basket. Darcy immediately stopped and spread out a blanket under an obliging oak and set out the picnic lunch. They dined, leisurely, talking of nothing. Elizabeth just relished being outdoors. Darcy delighted seeing his wife looking so well. After eating, Darcy leaned back on his elbow and stretched out his long legs in front of him. "I received a letter from MacDuff yesterday."

"How is Georgie and little Anne?"

"They are well, but MacDuff doesn't want the baby to spend the summer in the city. He wants to send them to his family home in Scotland, but he would be unable to go with them."

"Oh?" Elizabeth thought she knew where this was going.

"What do you think of us going there as well?"

"How would Georgie and the baby get to Pemberley? It does not make sense for us to go so far south, just to retrace our steps to go back north."

"Well, I do not mind that, but Angus thought he would bring them here. He would like to see you again as well. Then, he would go back to London and we could go on to Scotland at our leisure."

"What is his home like?"

"He says it isn't much more than a stone cottage, but there is room for a cook, a maid and a man. Annie's nurse would have to sleep with the baby and you and Georgie would need to share a maid, but I do not think that would be much of a problem. I do not imagine we will do much entertaining." Darcy smiled.

Elizabeth smiled back. A get away in a quiet Scottish glen with his wife, sister and niece was about as close as Darcy could get to Heaven this side of the grave. "I think it would be delightful, Fitzwilliam. But what of the planting? Do you need to remain here?"

"It was the last few years that were difficult. Now, most of the tenants understand and agree with my ideas on crop rotation. Those that don't simply cannot be moved so I've let them continue as they did in the days of my father. They are few and old and set in their ways. If last year was any indication, I'll only be in the way if I stay here."

Elizabeth smiled at that thought. "Well, it sounds as if you and Dr. MacDuff have thought of everything. Whenever it can be arranged, I will go to Scotland with you."

(Author's Note: For images of the flowers mentioned in Lizzie's wild garden, see nature_profiles?id=10)


	14. Chapter 14

Arranging travel, opening the cottage, planning what to take and how to transport it, and getting the MacDuff's north took quite some time. By the time the MacDuffs arrived at Pemberley, it was the first week of April. Georgie was glad to be back at home and little Anne had grown so much. She was nearly a year and starting to crawl. She was trying to pull herself up to a stand. The little girl favored her mother except for the shockingly red hair that she inherited from her father.

"It was quite trying, Elizabeth," Georgiana exclaimed. "When we travelled at Christmas, she was still a babe in arms, easy to soothe with a song or a toy. Now, she wants to be put down and play, but there are few places a baby can go in a carriage."

Elizabeth smiled demurely. She had continued in her recovery as spring progressed. She was no longer as thin and was taking longer walks in the gardens. She still did not go into the park; Fitzwilliam did not feel comfortable with her going so far, but she walked for at least 30 minutes twice a day in the home gardens or indoors when the weather was foul. She was still taking Dr. MacDuff's draughts and was eating his prescribed diet. She was feeling better.

"I'm sure, with your serenity and patience, that all was well, Georgie."

'Yes, well, I'm glad we'll be resting here for a few days before we go on to Scotland. Oh, but once we arrive, you will be enchanted. The MacDuff cottage is a delightful place. There are so many places to explore and the wildflowers! They are so beautiful - rhododendrons and bluebells. And the heather! It all smells so heavenly. There are places that feel absolutely medieval. You will love it."

"When were you there last?"

"Angus took me there for a week after our wedding. Don't you remember?"

"Ah, yes. I was ill shortly after your wedding..."

"Elizabeth, you lost the baby."

"One of many," Elizabeth said quietly to her hands folded in her lap.

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth, but Angus has told me what has happened. I cannot imagine what you must be going through."

"Thank-you, Georgiana."

"I wish..."

"Me too." The two women sat in silence for a few moments. When Elizabeth had first married Darcy, Georgiana had seemed so sheltered, so shy, so young. Elizabeth had assumed an almost motherly role, helping to guide her out of her shell, but retain her sweetness. Since her marriage, Georgiana began to look at Elizabeth as more of a sister and friend, than mother. However recently, in some ways, Georgie had began to mother Elizabeth, despite their age difference.

Into this companionable silence, Darcy and MacDuff entered. Darcy had wanted a private word with Angus before he saw Elizabeth. It had been difficult, but Darcy had stuck to MacDuff's words of warning all spring. And it was difficult, watching Elizabeth regain her strength and bloom like a rose. Everything he had felt when he had first met her and initially rejected her as a potential wife was rearing its ugly head. Suppressing his passion for his lovely wife was causing him the stiffness and reticence he had not displayed since he had returned from that disastrous Easter trip to Rosings. Darcy wanted to know if "everything" could return to normal. MacDuff had wisely stated he could not make that determination without first seeing Mrs. Darcy and assessing her. And so the men quit Darcy's study and joined the ladies in the parlor.

"Georgie!" Darcy cried, spying his beloved sister.

"Fitzwilliam," Georgie squealed and launched herself into his arms for a hug. He swung her about in a circle as MacDuff approached Elizabeth.

"I trust such an exuberant welcome will not be necessary, Dr. MacDuff?" Elizabeth asked with a somewhat saucy curtsey.

"Oh, of course not, Mrs. Darcy. We Scots must be an example of civility to these rough Northerners."

"And what of me? I hail from the South."

"Gentility incarnate, the ladies of the south." He bowed over her hand. "You are looking well, Mrs. Darcy."

"Thank-you."

"Perhaps after dinner, we can discuss your health further. I expect a holiday in the temperate Highlands will continue to promote your good health."

"I would like that."

MacDuff and Elizabeth were joined by the Darcy siblings. Darcy held his sister by the hand as they approached their spouses. "We planned a more informal meal tonight, so if you want to bring Anne down, you may, Georgiana."

"I would, Fitzwilliam, but she needs to sleep. She did not nap this last day with all the excitement in the carriage. She needs to get back to her regular schedule."

"Then I look forward to seeing my niece after breakfast tomorrow."

"Be careful what you wish for, Darcy," MacDuff warned. "The cottage is not very large; you'll find the baby under your feet more times than you can count!"

Darcy relinquished his sister's hand for his wife's. "We won't mind, will we Elizabeth?"

"No," said Elizabeth, her eyes suspiciously shiny. "We won't."

After dinner, the gentlemen rejoined the ladies shortly after they had withdrawn. Georgiana was drawn to the pianoforte, the one Darcy had gotten her for her sixteenth birthday. The one in town was nice, but this was an absolutely beautiful instrument and Georgiana always played it as much as she could when she was back at Pemberley. She sat down and played a quiet melody to her own enjoyment. Elizabeth sat near her and picked up some needlework. She looked up, somewhat surprised as her husband and brother entered the room.

"I would have thought that you two would have had much more to discuss in private," Elizabeth murmured.

"I for one, would rather be here with you lovely ladies than this old curmudgeon, " Angus laughed. "He is much too serious for a family party."

Elizabeth laughed. "Yes, he has become much more serious and taciturn of late. Almost the Darcy who entered into Hertfordshire all those years ago!"

"Goodness, Elizabeth," Darcy said, sitting next to her. "Not as bad as that, I hope."

"You have been quieter, Fitzwilliam."

"Yes, I suppose I have."

Georgiana caught the tenor of the conversation and steered it to a more neutral subject. "How is the lambing this season? I used to love going out with Papa to count them."

"Quite well, Georgie," Darcy answered thankfully. "We have a few orphans in the barn this year if you would like to feed them while you are here."

"Oh, I used to love that too. I remember how sweet and small they seemed until they were all butting for the bottle. One even pulled it out of my hands!"

"Not now though. My Georgie is a strong woman." MacDuff sat next to her at the pianoforte.

"Play for us, Georgie," Elizabeth asked.

Georgiana sorted through the music and found something she liked. "I think this will get us all in the mood for the journey." She began to play a light Scottish air.

Elizabeth leaned closer to Darcy. She wanted to lay her head on his shoulder, but decided to make do with touching her shoulder to his arm. She looked down at her work. "Do you imagine the MacDuffs will wish to retire early tonight? It must have been a long journey and they still have four days to go."

"We won't leave for a few days yet. I indicated no earlier than the fifteenth to the caretaker at MacDuff Cottage."

"Good. I..."

"What Elizabeth?" Darcy leaned down to her.

"I want time for a good long talk with the doctor before we leave."

"I think that is wise."

"You do?"

"Yes. He was absolutely essential in your recovery. Now..."

"Now?"

"Now we need to find out why. Perhaps he will have some insight into that as well."


	15. Chapter 15

The next week passed quickly and the Darcy party was prepared to leave the next day. Darcy, his wife and sister would head north to Scotland and McDuff would go south back to London. Georgiana and her husband were taking quiet walks together, wanting to spend as much time together before their separation. Elizabeth took care of little Annie, allowing her mother some time with her father.

Elizabeth was rocking the baby that afternoon when Georgiana returned and entered the nursery. The baby lay in Elizabeth's arms, loosely holding on to her necklace with drooping eyes. Elizabeth's face reflected love and longing.

"Oh, she is so sweet, Georgie," she whispered. "I hope this trip brings me better luck." She stood up and took the baby to her mother for a kiss, then tucked her into the cradle.

"What do you mean, Elizabeth?" Georgiana asked as they left the nursery and went downstairs together.

"Oh, just," Elizabeth sighed. "As much as I adore Pemberley, it hasn't given me much luck with babies. I've lost all of them here." She walked into the morning room and sat on a sofa.

Georgiana paused in the doorway, stunned. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, I was thinking back and realized that I had every miscarriage here. I've probably conceived here and in London, but it was always here that I lost them." Elizabeth began to pour tea from the service sitting on the coffee table. "In a way, it is nice. They are all here, on the ancestry land, but if I were suspicious, I would think that Pemberley had it in for me." She looked up to give her sister her cup. "Georgie?"

Georgiana looked up sharply and hurried to her seat. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth. I was just thinking of something. Did you say that all your losses occurred here?"

"Yes. Odd, isn't it?" she said, stirring milk into her tea. She looked at it a moment. "I hope we can get milk in Scotland. I miss it, especially chocolate, when we are in London."

Georgiana's thoughts were racing, but she managed to answer Elizabeth appropriately. "Oh, I believe we shall. That area of Scotland is somewhat famous for its milch cows."

The two women chatted quietly about what to expect and what still needed to be packed for the trip. At last, they finished and Elizabeth excused herself to attend to some last-minute packing. As soon as she left the room, Georgiana sprang up at once and hurried away to find her husband and her brother.

"She looks better, Darcy. I would venture to guess that with a few more weeks of fresh air, exercise and good food, she would be completely recovered. Scotland will be good for her."

"And there is no bias in your opinion of Scotland, Dr. MacDuff?" Darcy smiled.

"No bias at all, man. Pure scientific fact!" MacDuff laughed.

"Well, I hope you're right. I miss her."

"I wondered how that was going."

"I think she might be beginning to wonder."

"You've not discussed it?"

"Ah," Darcy turned away, blushing a little. "No."

"No?"

"Why would I?"

"So she doesn't wonder. So she understands. Her health must be completely restored before she attempts another pregnancy."

"I know that, MacDuff."

"But does she? Does she understand the importance of that?"

"She does, I'm sure."

MacDuff shook his head and turned to Darcy. "You really ought to discuss it fully with her, Darcy. She is not an imbecile. She is a bright, intelligent woman. She may start to think she is a disappointment to you."

"No, never! Lizzy knows what she means to me!"

"Does she? Sometimes women like to be reminded."

They both turned to the door of the study as Georgiana knocked. "Come in," Darcy called. "Hello, Georgie," he said, grateful for the interruption.

"Oh, I'm glad you are both here. I have an idea."

"What is it?" MacDuff asked.

"Elizabeth just told me that all her miscarriages occurred here at Pemberley."

"What?" Darcy exclaimed.

"That is what she said."

"Impossible! We've done lots of travelling since our marriage. I'm sure she is mistaken."

Georgiana looked at her brother pointedly. "Really, brother?"

MacDuff stepped between the siblings. "Darcy, I thought you told me she hadn't told you of any of the miscarriages except the two when the boys came so early."

"Yes. I suppose you are right. I apologize, Georgie."

"I know it is a sensitive subject, Fitzwilliam. I imagine you have difficulty discussing it with Angus, let alone your little sister." They both smiled. "She thinks Pemberley brings her bad luck. It made me think of Mother."

"Mother, why?" Darcy asked, indicating the sofa near the window as he sat on the chair opposite.

"Do you remember when I spent the summer with Aunt Catherine?"

"Georgiana, I've apologized for that over and over. I thought it was a good idea at the time."

Georgiana interrupted Darcy. "No, no, Fitzwilliam. I know. It was a mistake. But, when I stayed there, Aunt Catherine made a comment about Pemberley being bad luck for Mother." Darcy looked at her questioningly. "It was when she was spouting off about you marrying Anne and uniting 'two great estates.' She said you would have to live at Rosings because Pemberley was bad luck."

"What?"

"Think about it, Fitzwilliam. Mother and Father adored each other. Why do you think they only had two children?"

"Tell me, Georgie," MacDuff said.

"From what I understand, Mother and Father spent most of the first year of their marriage abroad. When they returned, Mother delivered you."

Darcy continued. "I was early and my birth nearly killed her."

Georgiana picked up the story. "And then no more children until me, nearly ten years later. Aunt Catherine said that Mother went to Bath as soon as she knew she had conceived for the waters. After that, she went to Rosings because Uncle Lewis had died. She returned to Pemberley towards the end of her confinement."

"And shortly afterwards, delivered you. You were early and your birth..." whispered Darcy.

"It was my birth that killed her." Georgiana looked at her hands.

MacDuff reached for his wife and took her hands in his. "Darcy, was your mother sickly?"

"Oh, I don't know, MacDuff. She was delicate."

"Like your wife has been of late?"

"No, Elizabeth is strong and vivacious."

"No, Fitzwilliam, not in the last eighteen months. She was fading before your eyes." Darcy looked at his sister questioningly. "I'm sorry. Angus read me your letters."

"Perhaps there is something about Pemberley," mused MacDuff quietly.

Darcy sprang up from his chair and began to pace. He ran his hand through his hair and stopped in front of the others. "'The Curse of the Darcys?' Should I have Mrs. Reynolds frighten the tourists with this fantasy?"

MacDuff rose from the sofa and took Darcy's arm. "I am a scientist, Darcy. I do not believe in superstitions and ghost stories. But, you have to admit, there is somewhat of a coincidence in this. I need to think on it, study it, learn more. Do you know of your grandparents? Did they have difficulties bearing children?"

Darcy sighed. "I do not know, but there are family archives in the library."

"May I take them with me? I'll study them on my return journey and keep them at Darcy House."

"Of course, Angus, of course." Georgiana rose and embraced her brother. He held her closer than he needed. "Whatever it takes, I will do. Not for Pemberley or the Darcy name, but for Elizabeth."


	16. Chapter 16

It was the fifth day of travel and everyone except Baby Anne was exhausted. The rocking of the carriage had often lulled her to sleep and when it hadn't, either Georgiana or Elizabeth would take her out of the carriage and walk ahead of the horses. They stopped often, to change horses mostly, or to give the baby a break from the confines of the carriage, and the going was slow. Spending their nights in strange inns was difficult and often she didn't sleep well in the unfamiliar rooms. Georgiana took her to her bed after the second night and allowed everyone to get some rest. Georgie slept on Elizabeth's shoulder in quick cat naps during the day.

Even Darcy, who had probably slept better than everyone, was irritable. He was worried about Elizabeth and how her health was withstanding the long journey. He worried about the logistics of the trip - changing horses, the inns where they spent their nights, fears of highwaymen and other unforeseen potential disasters. He also couldn't help but worry about Pemberley and the possibility that there was something on his beloved land that sickened his mother, sickened his wife and caused the death of his children. Being confined in the carriage with three women and irksome baby did not help matters.

Everyone heaved a silent sigh of relief and sent up prayers of thanksgiving when the beleaguered party turned off the main highway on to a quiet country road.

"Oh, we are nearly there!" exclaimed Georgiana.

Elizabeth marveled at the trees on both sides of the road and the hedges of rhododendrons. "It really is hidden away in a forest. Oh, Georgie! What a magical place."

Then suddenly, the cottage emerged from the surrounding woods. It was of grey stone, three stories. There were three dormer windows across the top and chimneys on both sides. A wide lawn ran down the hill to the road. An attached kitchen and stable were at the back.

"It is really small, nothing at all compared to Pemberley or even Longbourn, but I think you will love it," Georgian gushed. "There is so much to do. There's a pond a half mile behind the house that Angus says is good for fishing, Fitzwilliam, and there are so many trails for walking. We can take picnics too!"

The carriage came to a stop outside the front door. Two women, one much older, and a man stood waiting. The footman opened the door as the driver held the horses. Darcy stepped out first. He assisted his wife first and then his sister. The nurse handed down the baby and he gave her to her mother. Then, he assisted the nurse. The Darcy's followed Georgiana to the front door.

"Mrs. MacDuff, it is so wonderful to have you back. Is this the wee bairn? Oh, isn't she beautiful. And this must be your brother and sister."

Georgiana instantly became the lady of the manor as she greeted the housekeeper warmly. "Hello, Mrs. Smythe. It is good to be back. And yes, this is little Anne. And this is my brother and sister."

The stout housekeeper managed a passable curtsey. "Mr. and Mrs. Darcy. Welcome to MacDuff Cottage. We all hope you will enjoy your stay. This is Mary, our chambermaid and Fergusen, the gardener and man about the place." The other two bobbed a curtsey and bow respectively and went to help the Darcy servants. Mrs. Smythe looked over their shoulders to the group unpacking the luggage from the carriage. "Oh, dear, Mrs. MacDuff. I'll need to speak to you privately when you've a moment."

"Of course, Mrs. Smythe. Let me show Elizabeth and my brother the house. I think I'll need to put the baby down and then we can speak."

"Certainly, ma'am," she answered and led the way into the house.

It really was a quite small cottage. There was a wide hallway that bisected the house and included a stairway. On the left side of the house was a large parlor. It contained a small pianoforte and desk, along with chairs and a comfortable looking sofa. On the right side there was a plainly decorated dining room. Georgiana led them up the stairs and Anne's nurse followed them and then continued to ascend to the third floor.

'That's the servant quarters," Georgiana explained. "The maids sleep there and there is a nursery there too. It will be nice to finally use it. It has been empty for so long." She turned to the room on the right side of the house, over the dining room. "I thought since this room is a bit bigger, you could use it." She opened a door to a cozy bedroom. There was a large bed on the back wall with a dresser and a smaller desk near the windows. It was large enough for two easy chairs and side table near the fireplace.

"This is perfect, Georgie," Elizabeth smiled.

Darcy realized that there were only the two rooms on this floor. He would have to sleep with Elizabeth. He sighed inwardly. MacDuff had been impressed with Elizabeth's recovery, but had not lifted any restrictions as of yet. As she improved, sharing her bed would prove difficult to his self-control.

Georgiana crossed the hallway and entered the second bedroom. "Since it is just me, I'll take the smaller room, although they are nearly furnished the same." She was right. There was a similar bed, dresser, and desk in this room. There were no extra chairs.

They went back to the hallway and looked out the window to the back of the house. "Down there is the kitchen, pantry and the housekeeper's room." She indicated a one-storey addition off the back of the cottage. "There are the kitchen gardens and the stable. That path leads to the pond. Although, since we are in Scotland, I should call it a 'wee loch.'" She and Elizabeth smiled. "Oh, where to put the men? That must be what Mrs. Smythe wanted to discuss. WIll you excuse me?" Georgiana flew down the stairs with the baby on her hip, narrowly avoiding the footman carrying up a trunk.

Elizabeth leaned on the windowsill and looked out over the land and forest behind the cottage. Darcy moved behind her, and heedless of the servants scurrying around them, enfolded her in his arms. She leaned back on her shoulder. "What do you think, Mrs. Darcy?"

"I think it is delightful, Fitzwilliam. I think this place is just what we need." She turned her head and gently kissed his cheek. "Thank-you for bringing me here."

He returned her kiss on he temple. "I would do anything for you, my dearest. I love you so."

The first night included a simple meal and an early bedtime. Georgiana's excitement drained as quickly as it had appeared. She hadn't had a decent night's sleep for five nights and was exhausted. Elizabeth was tired too and went up with her. Darcy remained below stairs, speaking with Mrs. Smythe about his wife's recent illness in more detail and went over her dietary requirements.

They also discussed the servant's quarters. Mrs. Smythe had her regular room behind the pantry. The chambermaid and Becky, Elizabeth's personal maid who had made the trip north with them, would share the maid's quarters. Jenny, Anne's nurse would share the nursery. Fergusen usually slept in the barn, but there was room for the coachman and footman to bed down there as well.

"I am sorry, Mr. Darcy. I didn't even think of the coachman and footman when we were writing. Dr. MacDuff usually hires a carriage and the men only stay for one night."

"It is no trouble, Mrs. Smythe. The barn is warm and summer is coming. Besides, I think Thomas is more comfortable with the horses anyway."

They both chuckled for a moment. "I know you wish for privacy, sir, but there was talk in the village when I ordered the foodstuffs you requested. Fergusen brought it to my attention."

"Well, that is to be expected. I don't mind a bit of gossip, but my wife is to recuperate. We will not be hosting teas or dinners or parties."

"Yes sir." She stood quietly. "What time should I have breakfast ready?"

"We are on holiday. Is 8:00 too early?"

"Not for me, sir. Won't it be too late for you?"

"I think we understand each other." Darcy smiled. "Good-night then."

"Good night sir."

She took her leave of him. He checked the lock on the front door and then went upstairs. Elizabeth was sitting at the desk by the vanity looking out the window. She held her hairbrush to her breast and was already wearing her night-clothes. Darcy sighed. She looked like an angel in the moonlight.

"I thought you'd be asleep by now," he whispered.

"Soon. I am tired. I was waiting for you." She rose and came to him. "I thought you could use help with this." She reached up and untied his neckcloth. "I'm sorry we didn't bring Rogers. But where would he sleep? He would never tolerate the barn. But how will you shave tomorrow?"

"I was thinking of growing a beard." He smiled as he removed his coat and began to unbutton his waistcoat. Elizabeth took them both and laid them over one of the chairs by the fireplace. She shook her head and smiled to herself. "Besides, I'm not completely helpless, Elizabeth. I can take care of myself. We won't be entertaining."

"No."

He reached out for her and held her close. She pressed her nose into the opening at the throat of his shirt. He whispered in her ear, "If I become too scratchy, tell me at once and I will attempt a shave with your hand mirror. We cannot risk a relapse." She giggled into his throat. "Get into bed, Elizabeth. I'll be there in a moment."

She obediently went to the bed and blew out the candle burning on her nightstand. Darcy took his and went behind the screen in the corner of the bedroom. He emerged a few moments later, wearing his nightshirt. He blew out his candle and climbed in beside her.

"Good-night, my love." A soft sigh was his only answer.


	17. Chapter 17

The first week of their holiday involved a lot of sleeping and settling in to a routine. Both Georgiana and Elizabeth wanted to use the pianoforte, but the desk was in the parlor too and Darcy had many letters of business to read and reply to, despite being on "vacation." Elizabeth began practicing for an hour immediately after breakfast while Georgiana spent her time with the baby. After a short horse ride after breakfast, Darcy would return and work in the parlor until luncheon. Elizabeth would read or write letters or go for short walks around the cottage, depending on the weather. While the baby was down for her afternoon nap, Georgiana would play the pianoforte and Darcy and Elizabeth would spend time together. Darcy often encouraged his wife to rest in the afternoons as well. The three would gather together for dinner and afterwards the ladies would play or the three would play cards and sometimes Darcy would read aloud. They would all retire early.

The village was two miles down the main road and about a five-mile journey round trip. In the beginning, Darcy insisted on the ladies taking the carriage. He worried the length of the trip would be too much for Elizabeth and Georgiana had never been a great walker. After awhile, though, Elizabeth began to feel stronger and she asked Thomas to meet them in the village after a certain time. And of course, they always took the carriage into the village on Sundays for church.

Elizabeth enjoyed the freedom and carefree life in Scotland. She had no responsibilities, other than a weekly letter to Mrs. Reynolds, and the capable housekeeper had Pemberley well in hand. If she felt tired, she slept. If she was hungry, the delightful Mrs. Smythe had treats aplenty in the kitchen. If she was energetic, there were beautiful walks to be taken.

She was drawn to the "wee loch" behind the cottage. She liked sitting and watching the water from the short dock. Sometimes she would remove her shoes and stockings and dangle her toes in the icy waters. The weather was warming, but the pond was spring-fed and Mrs. Smythe said it was always cold.

She enjoyed the trees and bushes and plethora of wildflowers that seemed to bloom overnight in this verdant area. The rhododendron hedges were in constant color and soon the heather began to bloom. There were gorse bushes as well, their fiery yellow blooms hiding the thorns. It was overcast and it rained more days than not, but there was also plenty of sun and she truly began to feel like herself again.

Elizabeth's cheeks had regained their color, her clothes began to fit again and even her cycles returned to their regular routine. She felt as well as she did when she and Darcy had first married. One thing remained unimproved, in her opinion, however, and it began to bother her.

Of course, she said nothing to Darcy and certainly didn't mention it to Georgiana or in any of her letters to her mother or her sisters. It was a delicate matter and as she was now a prominent lady of the ton, she wasn't sure such thoughts were proper. But, she couldn't forget her primary duty as a wife was to provide her husband an heir and she was not so sheltered to not know how babies came about. But such activities had not occurred since before her illness. Oh, Darcy was loving as always. But, he held himself in such a reserve the likes of which she had not seen since he was first introduced to her in Meryton.

Elizabeth begun daily walks to the water, pondering this new problem. She had never had difficulty in conceiving, but retaining the pregnancy. She had never had to entice her husband and she was beginning to think that she would have to find a way. As her health improved and she spent more time with baby Anne, her longing for a child began to grow. She wondered too, if her ill-health and inability to carry Darcy's child to term was off-putting to him. It was all very confusing.

Darcy for his part, was suffering just as much as Elizabeth. As she regained her health, she became more beautiful and vivacious and teasing. His mind kept going back to the Mertyon assembly and the parties held when he stayed with Bingley at Netherfield. She had captured his attention then, even when he thought she could never be his wife. When he decided to put all convention and expectations aside and proposed, he had been undoubtedly rejected. He was remembering their reunion at Pemberley and their walk back from the lake. He would walk with her now or see her returning with her bonnet askew and the sunlight on her face and he would feel his heart stirring.

And then, he would remember his last conversation with MacDuff. His brother kept insisting that Elizabeth be completely well before she attempted to conceive again. Darcy was no doctor, but he knew his wife and knew she felt well. Mrs. Smythe's recipes were simple, but hearty and he knew she was eating well. She had continued MacDuff's tinctures and tonics to restore her blood. MacDuff had recommended six normal cycles before conception be attempted.

"You mean I need to wait four more months before I can..." Darcy had run his hands through his hair and turned to pace his study. "Before I can be with my wife!" It was their last night at Pemberley and the men had retired to Darcy's study for one more glass of port. Darcy had found his grandmother's and mother's journals and calendars to send with MacDuff as well.

"I think it's best, Darcy," MacDuff said quietly. "Carrying a child to term has proven difficult for Mrs. Darcy. She should be at her very best before she attempts it again."

"I know. You're right," Darcy had sighed. "It is not easy, though."

"You know, Darcy," MacDuff said thoughtfully. "There is more than one way to skin a cat."

"Pardon me?"

"There are any number of ways to 'be with one's wife.'"

Darcy looked at the ceiling and closed his eyes.

"You do know what I mean?"

Darcy nodded. "I'm desperately trying to not think of my baby sister."

MacDuff laughed. "Oh, come now, man! We are both educated men in passionate marriages."

"My God."

"There are all sorts of ways to express that love, that passion. I did recommend you speak to her."

"I know. I just don't know if I can."

"If you don't, you'll regret it. Mark my words."

And, now MacDuff words were coming true. Darcy was regretting not discussing this aspect of her recovery with Elizabeth. Sharing her bed each night was becoming excruciating. He tried staying up later than she, but even if she was asleep, as soon as he lay down, she would seek him out unconsciously. Finally, after nearly two weeks of this torture, Darcy began walking down the path to the "wee loch" and going for a swim.

Plunging into the freezing water was a very effective way of cooling his ardor. It had worked well the last three nights. He was just emerging from the water on the fourth evening and pulling himself up on to the dock when he caught sight of his wife, standing on the end of the dock and tapping her foot. He held himself still, half in and half out of the water and looked up at her.

She had thrown a coat on over her nightdress and put on slippers. It was a clear night and the moon and stars cast an angelic glow about her hair and shoulders. But the look on her face was less than angelic. She looked angry - devilishly angry - and absolutely beautiful.

"Elizabeth," he began.

"Is this what you've been doing, Fitzwilliam Darcy? Throwing yourself in this freezing water and waiting for me to fall asleep?"

"Lizzy?"

"What in the world is the matter with you?"

"Lizzy."

"Am I now so repulsive to you that you cannot even sleep at my side? You must exhaust yourself in this bizarre manner?"

"Lizzy! No!"

She turned on her heel and began to storm off to the house. "Damn, you MacDuff for being right!" Darcy cursed under his breath. He leapt out of the water, pulled on his robe and dashed off after her. "Elizabeth," he called after her. He easily caught her spun her around to face him.

"Let me go, Fitzwilliam." She was crying.

"Elizabeth, it isn't you. It could never be you. I am the one at fault." He pulled her into his arms, heedless of the cold water soaking through his robe. "I love you. I only want you to be well."

"What does leaving me alone in the night and swimming in a freezing pond have to do with my health?" she asked.

"MacDuff believes you should be completely well before you conceive again. He also wants more time to research why you've miscarried so often. " Elizabeth's righteous indignation sagged a bit in his arms. "A chance comment you made to Georgie just before we left made us all think. Perhaps there is something at Pemberley that is causing the problem. My mother only had the two of us, and she was so delicate when Georgiana was born. That is what likely caused her death." He shivered and held her tighter, tucking her head under his chin. "I cannot lose you, Elizabeth. I cannot. Not when I can prevent it."

"Why didn't you say anything to me?" She looked up at him and watched a water droplet fall from a lock of his hair and slide down his cheek. She reached up and touched its path gently. "I thought we were not going to keep anything from each other anymore."

"You were so sick and weak and sad. I didn't want to burden you. And then, when you began to get better, I was..."

"You were embarrassed?"

He hung his head and shivered again.

"Oh, Fitzwilliam!" she exclaimed. "We must get you inside and warm before you catch your death." They turned and hurried to the house. She rushed him upstairs and put him in a chair by the fire in their room. She added a log and then gathered up dry clothes and blankets for him. When she deemed him warm enough, she sat on his lap and held his head against her shoulder. "Fitzwilliam," she murmured. "There is more than one way to skin a cat."

"Mrs. Darcy! I'm surprised at you!"

"Be surprised at your mother-in-law. She insisted that Jane and I have a very thorough education prior to our wedding."

Over the next few days, Georgiana noticed that her brother became less reserved and rigid. And Elizabeth's cheeks were decidedly rosier than she had ever seen them.


End file.
